Mud
by lovestowrite238
Summary: A second or so after Derek calls out my name, I fall into the muddy water, swallowing gallons of it until my stomach turns and I feel everything turning pitch black around me. As soon as I clean myself off, I realize tonight's quest was not exactly the brightest of my ideas. Expect Stiles-hurt, friendship, comfort, family, and so on. No romance. Written from Stiles' POV.
1. Chapter 1

**Mud**

Story: _A second or so after Derek calls out my name, I fall into the muddy water, swallowing gallons of it until my stomach turns and I feel everything turning pitch black around me. As soon as I clean myself off, I realize tonight's quest was not exactly the brightest of my ideas._

Expect Stiles-hurt, friendship, comfort, family, and so on. No romance. Written from Stiles' POV.

Characters: Stiles, Scott, Derek, Isaac, Lydia and Allison, with some Sheriff Stilinski added.

Set somewhere area season 3 with no references whatsoever to any episodes.

Reviews are very much appreciated and welcomed!

 **Chapter One**

Here's the thing about running with wolves. You get into the flow so quickly that you forget it's not normal for teenage kids to be running around the woods in the middle of the night, chasing this bloody intruding Omega. According to human standards, this guy isn't supposed to exist. Werewolves are a figment of people's imagination, the focal point of folk stories and fairytales. According to the average person, a werewolf exists in creepy horror movies where people get ripped apart in the most horrible ways.

Pre-Scott's bite I thought the exact same way. Post-Scott's bite, I find myself chasing these creatures as if it's normal. I have conversations about them, discuss what they do with humans as if I'm discussing the weather. And I befriended them, not afraid of them. This is normal for me.

I'm weird.

Then again, this is Beacon Hills and nothing around here is normal. That, we've learned over the past two years.

I hear Scott, Isaac and Derek growl from a distance as they chase the newcomer who is going through the full moon rage he can't seem to control and I'm just running after them, at my own pace, not able to follow them in their werewolf forms.

'Just go ahead without me,' I shout after them, slowing down when I'm out of breath. I stop after a while, decide it's absolutely useless pretending I'm as fast as they are and just quit the chase right there and then. It's not like I can beat the crap out of things anyhow and I prefer to stay away from fangs and claws. 'Let me know when you get him,' I mutter, realizing at the same time I'm alone in the dark, surrounded by woods, with the sense that someone's watching me.

I gaze around, decide that it's just my stupid teenage sense kicking in and turn rounds waiting for them to return with some gruesome story about this newbie they chased from their turf. As if I care about wolfs and their packs anyhow. The others, not Scott, often make me feel as if I don't belong. I am after all a skinny kid with no flesh on his bones – so they say, but I've been working out, which they don't know – and they often wonder why I don't want the bite. I can see that in their eyes. The truth is I'm pretty sure I wouldn't survive the bite, that would just be my luck, wouldn't it, that I would end up a kanima like Jackson or some weird new creature no one's ever heard from. No, thanks.

The fact that there are so many of them though, startles me but I try to ignore the fact that they seem to grow by the numbers every day. It's like beating them with a stick and when they split open, twelve more appear. Sometimes I pretend I'm dreaming all of this, that none of this really happened, which helps for a while, especially during panic attacks, to then realize once more that they are really, truly there and there's nothing you can do about it. Why did Scott have to be bitten again? Oh wait, that was my fault. Stupid me had to go to the woods that night, stupid me left him behind and didn't even realize he received the bite by an Alpha. Damn.

I hear someone shout my name in the far distance and I yell, 'Oy! Don't mind me, I'm just hanging around.'

The next thing I know, I hear another growl behind me and my instincts spring in action as this doesn't exactly sound like the familiar sound of one of my friends. Strange how you can recognize a wolf's growl so quickly after running with them for two years. They all sound differently somehow, like all cats also sound different.

I see a pair of glowing eyes stare at me from between the trees. 'Guys,' I shout, louder this time, 'I'm sort of in trouble here.' One second later I see the all too familiar figure of a werewolf jump right at me. 'Oh crap.'

Without giving it a second thought, I run for the second time that night, this time not after someone but away from someone/something, going as fast as I can. I hear his breathing behind me and run as fast as I can, avoiding tree branches and century-old trees as I stumble down, tripping over my own feet, going further down into the valley, stumbling over a root, falling and rolling down the hill in a pace that would make any Olympic medal winner utterly jealous. All of a sudden I come to a stop.

'Stiles!'

There is a loud splash and then momentarily nothing. It's pitch dark out here with no moon, no stars, no lights to accompany my fall. I am surrounded by blackness, I have no idea what's happening to me. I just know that, a second or so before I fall into the pond, I can hear Derek's strong, animalistic voice bark my name. He almost sounds worried there, I think wryly. Then I roll straight into the pool of water, going under the surface without a single sound, trapping myself in its muddy bottom, feeling my feet, frantically fighting to free myself from this unexpected imprisonment.

I feel like the world is closing in on me, panic strikes out but I force myself to stay calm. I'm a decent swimmer, a relatively good athlete – yes, despite my skinny bones – and I know I can manage. But it's the pitch blackness that frightens me so much. I'm unable to see a single thing under water, unable to close my mouth on time and feel the mud and water enter my stomach and lungs. This really freaks me out. For a few seconds, I am dazed, unable to realize I have to fight the forces pulling me down and move up. But then I start to struggle automatically and my mind springs into action again. The water isn't that deep and I know that technically I shouldn't drown. I just have to put my feet down on the bottom of the pond and push myself up.

I feel something nearby grazing me. A human hand, well if you can call it that way. It's a werewolf hand from a man who looks human at this moment, except for his hands. I always wonder how he can do that, today I'm just grateful he has this strength. His nails graze my neck and grabs my collar. My head is suddenly out of the water and I can breathe again. Gratefully I suck in the air as Derek pulls me out of the water as if I weigh nothing.

 _You are safe_ , my sanity screams at me. _You stupid jerk,_ my pride yells at the same time. Typical for the human of the pack to wind up in the water like this. Damn it.

'Stiles, are you okay?' he asks as I sit heaving on the dock and watch the werewolf look me over. 'That was a nasty splash. You didn't take in any of the water, did you?'

'No,' I lied in between heavy coughs and attempts to throw up the water. 'I'm okay. My pride has suffered a serious blow though.'

He smirks. 'That's what you get when you run with wolves. Next time stay in the car like we said, okay? Seriously, this isn't what you're supposed to do. You are supposed to stay safe, Scott will kill me if something happens to you. You're not good at listening, are you?'

'You left me behind with another wolf,' I retorted, almost accusingly.

'Sorry about that,' he replies immediately, almost shameful. 'There were two of them, it wasn't an Omega. I should have scented it. The second one was clever, he stayed far enough away so I wouldn't smell him. They're gone now, don't worry. Can you get up?'

We hear Scott and Isaac approach through the woods, both calling out our names. Quickly I get up, shivering and cold in the darkness of this winter night. I look like a soaked cat who was just dug out of the litter bin. I probably smell like it too, by the looks on Scott's and Isaac's faces.

'Stiles, what the hell happened to you?' Isaac asks, "friendly" as ever but with a glance of concern in his eyes. 'You okay?' His cold blue eyes just stare at me. I know he can't help having this look in his eyes but it sometimes pisses me off that he's so un-phased about everything happening in this world. It sort of feels that way to me anyhow.

'Nothing I couldn't handle,' I retort, pointing at the pond. 'Fell in when one of your kind chased me. Don't worry, I'm fine. You should have seen the other guy.'

'Why, did you fight him?' Isaac asks, an eyebrow lifted so high I swear he has tape plastered on it to keep it that way.

'He left when Stiles fell into the water, didn't want to get wet,' Derek smirks for the second time that night, his dark eyes gazing at me. 'Or he took off when he realized I'm an Alpha.' His words receive a grin from Isaac.

Scott then finally seems to realize I'm wet and just stares at me with this look in his eyes I can only describe as, 'You-should-have-waited-in-the-car-as-I-have-explicitely-said-twenty-times.' So I look away from him and stomp around, trying to get warm, which of course is useless.

'I'll bet you the other one ran home to his Alpha and tell him a human kid got the better of him,' Derek says to Isaac, blatantly ignoring me.

'What about the other one, will he tell him he got his ass kicked by us?'

'Not a chance.' Again that smirk as Derek crosses his arms. Isaac and Scott laugh out loud, proud at their buddy-ness. Do I need to remind Scott that half a year ago they actually hated each other's guts? Geez!

'When you boy are done comparing ranks, mind if I head to the jeep and drive home?' I spurt out angrily. 'It's not like I can heal myself, you know? I'm wet, I ache all over and I just want to go get a shower and sleep it off.'

'Oh, sorry about that,' Scott mumbles, focusing on me. 'Let's get you out of here, Stiles.' He debates whether to place an arm around me but decides against it when his nose picks up that wonderful scent of disgusting mud.

I cast Derek's wry glance that betrays his typical reaction whenever something happens to me and turn my back to the three of them. 'I can take care of myself, thanks.' I am so angry at this moment – mostly at myself by the way – I don't want to see anyhow of them for the rest of the night.

'You don't know where you are,' comes Isaac's dry retort.

'Sure I do,' I reply, gazing at the night skies. 'There's north and my car is up there, on the hill. I think.'

'The car's southbound,' Derek mumbles.

'I heard that,' I hiss before stomping up the hill. All help from them I refuse, angry at this situation. I should have stayed in the car, as Derek and Scott have said. But no, I had to go and prove I could go with them and be strong without the bite. Besides, I was curious because I was the one who had told them about a new wolf – even though they hadn't believed me at first - and I want to prove myself right. I hate nights like this. I shove my arms around my chest, trying to stop my teeth from clattering and my body from shaking. I'm on the verge of hypothermia but I don't care. I refuse stubbornly to ask for their help.

'You don't look so good, man,' Scott says while he walks at my pace next to me. He offers to give me his sweater but I refuse coolly.

'It's the mud,' I mumble, hating the smell of the pond on me. 'Just leave me alone, Scott. Go to your little pack buddies already.'

'I'm sorry, man, this wasn't supposed to happen when you slipped out of the jeep after us. I didn't think it would be that dangerous.'

'Because you didn't believe me.'

'I didn't, I'm sorry,' he says shamefully.

'You never do, do you Scott?' I ask, casting an angry glance at him. I'm mostly angry at myself but he's the only one nearby I can lash out at and I can't stop myself. 'You always think you are always right and I'm wrong. I don't know shit about this whole wolf thing but you forget that I don't need fangs to know about this stuff.'

He just nods.

'Not everyone's immortal, Scott,' I add for good matters. 'You don't even give any of this a second thought, do you? Is this going to be our lives for the rest of our life?' I then stop, realizing what I just said.

He opens and closes his mouth, shocked at my words. 'Stiles, this isn't your life, it's mine.'

'It's also mine,' I almost shout, 'because I was the one who took you into the woods that night and did this to you. It's my fault you're in this position and not out there having fun at some party with blonde bimbos and raging hormones.'

Shocked he stands still as I move further up the hill, not knowing what to say. I feel horrible, angry and mostly icy cold. Worst night ever. _Just shut up, Stiles._ Stop thinking like this. Well, at least now he knows how guilty I feel over this whole thing.

Derek and Isaac say absolutely nothing and just follow, knowing this is something I needed to say. There, I said it.

When we reach my jeep, I allow Scott to rummage through my trunk, dig up a blanket and start up the engine. He turns up the heat and says, 'Here, use this blanket and get out of those clothes.' He also gives me his sweater and even offers me his jeans but I refuse. I do have my pride, you know.

Then they leave me alone and I remove my hoodie and T-shirt and pull on his sweater, grateful that I am allowed to use it. I hold the blanket over the freezing lower parts of my body while refusing to remove my jeans. I have some dignity left, you know, there is no way in hell I am going to sit here in my boxers or naked.

The drive back to town will take forever, something I'm not looking forward to at this point. Bathing in the car's heat, I feel miserable as hell, my hands so cold that I feel they are about to drop off. I am so tired. The entire night just wears off on me right now.

Scott taps on the car window and I slide it open, looking as good as I undoubtedly feel.

'How are you holding up?' he asks, checking me out.

'Dandy,' I retort.

'Are you sure?'

'Perfectly fine.'

'Good. Good.'

'Scott, stop looking at me like that. I just want to go home, okay?'

Derek moves next to him and gazes at me. 'You look like shit.' Isaac just frowns.

'I'm okay. Really, honestly and totally,' I sigh wearily. 'I. Want. To. Go. Home.'

Derek almost grins and crawls into the back of the jeep, next to Isaac. Scott slides in behind the steering wheel without even asking permission to drive. We drop off Derek at his loft, Isaac at the Argents and then Scott takes me home.

'I'm sorry,' he says as we get there.

'I'm sorry too,' I reply.

'Go to bed, Stiles, you look terrible. And that scent is killing me, seriously. Shower first.'

I smile. 'Goodnight, Scott.'

He waits for me to go inside and then heads off on foot.

I enter my home, grateful dad is working the night shift and head for the shower immediately. I strip off my damp clothes, step into the shower and stand there for at least fifteen minutes, allowing the clean water to wash off the mud and horrible smell of the pond. Not bothering with anything else, I pull on new boxers and a T-shirt. Then I work on getting that foul taste out of my mouth. I can still taste the water, filled with death, as it entered my mouth. I can taste the fish – dead or alive – the frogs, the little critters that swim around there underneath the surface. I brush my teeth over and over again, drink three glasses of coke and chew on gum – which I hate. Nothing helps. I can't get the taste out of my mouth.

My throat starts to ache. I hear the front door and realize dad is home. Damn it. Quickly I move to my bedroom and turn off the lights but it's too late, he knows I'm awake. He enters my bedroom and switches on the corridor light and finds me sitting on my bed, looking like shit. 'Stiles, you okay?'

'Yeah,' I mutter, 'couldn't sleep.'

'What is that godawful smell?'

I want to lie but am too tired to make up a story. So I tell him what happened. He stares at me as if I'm crazy, then sighs and says, 'We'll talk about this in the morning. Get some sleep.'

I crawl into bed, pull three blankets over me and grit my teeth, trying to feel better.

to be continued


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you all for following this story and for your reviews and messages. Very much appreciated! Reviews are always gratefully accepted :).

 **Chapter Two**

During the rest of that short night, I'm having the strangest dreams. I wriggle underneath the blankets while dreaming of corpses lying in water, staring at me. I try to get away but they grasp my legs and pull me under, preventing me from escaping death. Then I feel fish biting my legs and I see my own blood mingling with the muddy water.

I scream myself awake, sweating and aching, feeling totally crap. Dad comes in and stares at me, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, then realizing I am heaving like someone who is about to collapse.

He takes me downstairs, gives me a cup of strong coffee – I hate coffee but it does do the trick to shake the dream off of me – and then asks me again what happened. So I explain it to him in detail, glad I don't have to lie about werewolves anymore.

Scott calls me a little after seven. 'Morning,' I say, 'couldn't sleep either, could you?'

'Nope,' he replies wearily, 'how are you doing?'

'Okay.'

'Don't lie, Stiles. You sound like crap.'

'Thanks for the compliment.'

'Are you going to see a doctor?'

'And tell him what?'

'That you fell into dirty water and swallowed gallons of it, perhaps?'

I roll my eyes and look at dad who pretends not to be listening but is anyhow. 'It wasn't that bad.'

'So you did get some water in.'

'Some.'

'How much?'

'Seriously, Scott,' I reply, 'stop acting like my mother. I'm heading out to school, will see you there.'

'You are not honestly debating coming to school, are you?' he asked shocked.

'Where else would I be?'

'In bed with some Tylenol. I'll come right after school, will tell them, okay? Go talk to your dad or I

will do it for you.'

'He already knows.'

'Then get him on the phone.'

'No way.'

'Give him to me, Stiles!' Scott demands.

I grin. 'See you later,' and hang up on him before he can say anything else. Then I look at dad who looks back at me with that typical concerned frown on his face whenever I pull some stunt and says, 'I'm taking you to a doctor.'

'Later,' I wave away his remark, 'I'm going to school first.'

'Stiles, you stubborn mule,' he begins but I hold up my hand.

'Dad, I swear I'll call you if I don't feel well but I don't plan to skip a single class, okay? I promise I'll be a good boy and come home if I get sick. Seriously, I can take care of myself.'

He becomes really quiet and I swear I see tears in his eyes when he retorts, 'that's just the problem, isn't it? You don't allow anyone else to take care of you.'

I open and close my mouth shocked, only to realize then that he's right. Nobody takes care of me, I won't allow them, not after mom. I swallow away my distress and stand before he can say something else, almost fleeing out of the room as if another werewolf is coming after me. Dad says nothing more and leaves before I come back down with my backpack and pretend I am perfectly okay to go to school.

I drive almost automatically to school, not remembering how I got there once I park and get out of my battered jeep that still stinks of last night's ordeal. Lydia wrinkles her nose when she catches up with me, which isn't so difficult since I'm walking with the pace of a ninety-year old. 'What's that smell?' Her large, gorgeous eyes stare at me and she stops me with her hand on my arm. 'What's going on with you?'

'Nothing,' I mumble.

'Stiles, don't lie to me.' Her eyes pierce mine and I know I can't lie to her. I never do. Well, mostly I don't.

'I did a little tumble last night.'

'Are you hurt?'

'No, except for my pride.'

Those eyes, god how I adore them, look at me with that investigation gaze of hers and she looks up and down, scanning every inch of my body, fortunately not lingering too long around the midsection.

Embarrassed I just stand there while our schoolmates laugh and stare at Lydia as if she's gone crazy again, like last year. 'You don't seem hurt,' she remarks. 'But there's something off.'

'Lydia, just leave it, okay?' I say, for the first time ever trying to get away from the girl I've been crazy about my entire life. I would have given an arm and a leg to have her look at me that way a year ago, now I try to escape it. I'm saved by Allison who grabs Lydia by the arm and pulls her away.

The next second Isaac is pacing at my speed and looks at me with those strange eyes of his. 'So, you're still alive,' he remarks, as if that's a shock. 'Feeling sick?'

'Seriously man, work on those emotional intelligence skills of yours,' I mumble. 'Did you honestly think a bit muddy of water could kill me? I may not be as strong as you, but I can hold my own, you know.'

'I know,' he reacts and then he stops me in my tracks, his voice lowering to a tone that you could actually consider as being friendly. 'Stiles, you have to take care of yourself. Stop being such a stubborn mule. It's okay to admit you don't feel okay, you know?'

I stare at him. Then I smile. 'Did Scott put you up to this?'

'No, idiot, this is me talking.'

'Owkay,' I retort but my tone calms down and I soften up. 'Sorry. And you're right, I'll let you know when I don't feel okay, alright?'

'And next time, stay in your jeep.' With that, our magical moment stops and he marches off for his first class of the day while I fumble with my schedule and try to figure out where to go. I wind up in the same class as Scott and slide in a seat next to him as if nothing has happened. He just glares at me, too angry to say a single word. I realize that being here today was not the brightest of my ideas but I refuse to admit that my hands are ice cubes and every single hair of my body is risen up due to cold.

During the first break Scott pulls me aside and eyes me up and down, a bit like Lydia did earlier but I have to admit I prefer over Scott. Then he puts his hand on my forehead. 'You're running a fever.'

'Really, Sherlock?' I retort, shaking off his hand.

'Go home, Stiles, please.'

'I will, in about seven hours.'

'Why are you doing this?' he shot out angrily. 'What do you need to prove?'

'Why are you on my back?' I replied hoarsely, angrily, not meaning it but saying it nonetheless.

'Stiles, I know you don't give a damn about yourself but there are others that do. Come on, I'm taking you home.'

The bell rings and I smile. 'Later, man. Gotta go.' I sort of stumble to my next class and almost collapse in the chair, realizing that half of the class is staring at me as if I have just lost my marbles. I just sink back and ignore everyone, hating this. When the bell rings, Scott is already waiting at the door.

'Seriously,' I say, pushing him away. 'Stop looking at me like that, go catch another werewolf or something. I don't have time for this.'

'Why are you doing this, Stiles?' he asks, pulling me outside. Too weak to stop him, I just stumble along with him until we are outside in the blinding winter's sun.

'Doing what?' I ask, refusing to look at him.

'You don't care about yourself, do you? You don't care that you are walking about like the living dead, that you are seriously messing with your health. I should have driven you to the hospital last night. Why are you lying to me? Is this about what you said last night? Is this some sort of selfpunishment thing you're doing?'

'What did I say last night?' I mumble, even though I remember every single word of it.

'Why do you feel so guilty? This isn't your fault, Stiles, none of it is.' Scott's voice becomes harsh, loud enough for others to hear. I see Lydia, Isaac and Allison head over to us. He just talks on and on and I don't know what he's saying beause I don't understand a single word he says. It all slides past me somehow. I feel absolutely crappy and realize that if I don't move now, I will just fall apart right here and now. I won't allow anyone near me should that happen. No way.

'I'm going home,' I mutter and walk past them to my jeep with my friends staring at me without saying another word. I unlock the jeep and drive home without backpack or home keys, realizing too late I have left everything at school the moment I arrive there. Damn it!

Tired I pound my hands against the steering wheel, trying to think of a way to break into my own house and then just slide backwards, realizing at the exact same moment it happens I'm passing out. Oh crap. This wasn't exactly what I thought would happen and when it does, I don't have time to panic. I'm in trouble.

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks very much for the lovely feedback! If you appreciate this story, please let me know. I intend to write more stories amongst these lines (hurt/comfort, angst, friendship) and would love to find out if there's an audience for it. Thanks!

 **Chapter Three**

I don't know how long I've been sitting/lying there, in the driver's seat of my smelly jeep but I wake up at one point, feeling worse than before. It's my own hoarse, strange coughs that actually wake me, escaping from within the inner core of my body, hurting me so badly that I feel someone's been pushing a knife into my lungs to twist it a few times around just for the fun of it.

Oh crap.

My lungs seem to burst out of my chest. They feel … heavy. My entire body feels like that. I can't explain it any other way. Something is seriously wrong and I panic.

I know I must be running a high fever because I feel extremely hot and uncomfortable. I scramble up, knowing I have to get to a doctor fast. But I can't, I can't move. Oh crap. Scott is going to kill me, if I haven't managed to do so myself. I manage to push open the door of the jeep and somehow fall out of it, falling like a log to the ground, ending up on our driveway, just as a car pulls up.

I see doors opening, with them all heading towards me, Lydia crying out, 'Oh hell,' Allison reaching for her phone, Isaac cursing, Derek swearing under his breath and Scott just standing there and staring at me lying flat on my back, looking like some snow angel without the snow. I literally cannot move a muscle. I try to speak but find I can't even do that.

The next thing I know, there's nothing.

Then voices. 'Stiles. Come on, man, don't do this to me. Stiles, do you hear me?' That's Scott.

'He's dead,' Isaac says.

'No, he's not.' Lydia's voice almost screeches. It aches my ears.

Nothing.

I feel hands on my chest and someone leaning over my face, listening to my rasping breaths. 'He's completely out of it.'

Nothing.

A mouth over mine, someone pushing on my chest. I cough and then weakly fight whoever is doing the pushing. The mouth is Allison's. I hope Scott won't kick my ass for that one.

'He's awake. Stiles, stay with us, man, come on.' Scott's frantic voice again.

'What's going on?' I groan, trying to move up.

Lydia's cold hand lingers on my forehead. She's pushing me down. I see her eyes twice. Why is she moving so fast in front of me? 'He's burning up. Where's that ambulance?'

'On their way,' Allison says.

I need a bed. I honestly need a good, warm, safe bed. My bed. 'I have to sleep,' I mumble and then Scott grabs my hand and holds it tight, squeezing so hard in my fingers I swear he's about to break them. 'No. Stay awake.'

'Easy there,' I mutter, 'Fragile bones, remember?'

He says nothing, his eyes so worried as I've never seen before. He has tears in them. Oh shit, I did this to my best friend. I feel crappier than ever. What were we arguing about anyhow? No, what was I arguing about? I put this on myself. My chest hurts like hell. I can hardly breathe.

'Scott, I'm fine,' I croak.

'Just don't die on us, okay?' he says, his voice so serious it makes me want to cry too, so I do. He has placed his jacket underneath my head and I feel extremely cold lying here on our driveway but I am warmed by their presence. I feel ridiculously happy I'm not alone out here. I cough so roughly it sends waves of pure pain through my chest and the darkness comes so quickly I didn't even feel it happening.

Nothing.

'Damn it,' Scott curses, so hard that it actually hurts my ears. Yep, I'm back.

The sirens of an ambulance, followed by a police car, approach quickly. Before I even know it, I am surrounded by several people who hover over me and start asking me questions. Oh crap, dad is there too. He looks extremely pale and so worried that another knife stabs my heart. I did this to him too.

Scott tells the paramedics everything, of course leaving the werewolf part out and then they just stare at me like I'm an idiot for not going to the hospital last night. They are absolutely right, yes, I admit it.

The moment the gurney comes in sight, the entire street seems to be eyeing me. I try to regain some of my dignity by struggling up but several hands push me back down again. 'Like hell you're going to stand up,' a woman says. 'Don't move.'

'But -'

They lift me up as if I weigh nothing.

'Ready to move,' someone says and I'm strapped on the gurney and they put an oxygen mask over my face which actually relaxes me.

'I'll go with him,' Scott says, sliding in next to me before anyone can say anything. Dad and the others will follow, I'm pretty sure of that. I feel loved. And stupid. And oh so ashamed.

'You'll be fine,' someone says. I look at Scott and he looks back at me and we just smile weakly at each other with a gaze no one else would be able to understand. He's my best friend and I love him more than myself.

'We'll be fine,' he corrects.

With that, I doze off and let it all pass by me. I didn't even realize I passed out again.

About fours hours or so later - who's counting time when you're on drugs anyhow - tests and examinations were finally over. Photos have been taken of my lungs, they checked inside my stomach and did loads of blood tests. They also took a biopsy of my lungs, fortunately I was on the good stuff by then.

Now, I have an IV pushing heavy antibiotics and loads of other medication into me. I am feeling strangely, warmly out of it, almost high, resting relatively peacefully in a small, separate ER cubicle with an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth, helping me to breathe better. There is a buzz of activity outside my cubicle, voices whispering to each other, monitors beeping here and there.

Then the front curtain is shoved open and Scott and my father step in, along with a doctor explaining my situation to them.

'He was unconscious for some time after we brought him in,' the doctor explains. 'We're talking agressive pneumonia here. You didn't notice any signs before?'

'I wasn't unconscious, I was sleeping,' I say weakly through my mask, knowing they won't listen to me anyhow.

Dad looks at me, then again at the doctor. 'Will he be fine?'

'Of course I will be,' I mutter, annoyed they are ignoring me. 'It's just a pneumonia.'

Dad raises an eyebrow. ' _Just a pneumonia?'_ he repeats angrily, 'Stiles, you were poisoned!'

'I - what?'

The doctor looks quite seriously as he comes closer, explaining to me what has happened, what he just finished saying to dad in the hallway. 'You swallowed a huge amount of dirty water when you fell into that pond,' he starts. 'There was a lot of bacteria there as well. One of them is a very aggressive bacteria that has attacked your lungs, causing this pneumonia. We are currently fighting this off with a very heavy dose of antibiotics. You will be moved to the ICU shortly to monitor your heart and lungs for the next 24 hours.' The doctor looks at dad and Scott. 'This will be a crucial period, it might be touch and go.'

'ICU?' I repeat, thinking I didn't hear that right. 'Why?' That last word came out really weird, even in my drugged state of mind, I knew that.

'Shut up, Stiles,' dad says lovingly but firmly and I couldn't blame him. 'Can I stay with my son?' That, he didn't ask me of course but the doctor who used some medical mumbo jumbo to further explain my condition.

The doctor nods, leaving us alone as he goes to prepare my admittance to the ICU and takes dad with him to fill out the paperwork. Scott sits down and eyes me troubled. 'You definitely made a statement with your ridiculous stubborness,' he says. 'Stiles, do you really think you should be blamed for my current state? Is this your way of punishing yourself? By being an idiot and ignoring all signs you are in deep shit?'

'Shouldn't I be?' I croaked with the oxygen mask on my voice, 'with all my halfwash brain ideas, I brought us there in the first place.'

'No, you didn't. I was there because I wanted to be. Because I like your halfwash brain ideas and you are my best friend. My only friend, for that matter.'

'You have lots of friends,' I mutter, feeling too emotional to reply with sarcasm.

'No, Stiles. I have no one like you. You are it for me, the nerd who stuck with me through thick and thin, no matter what. I love ya, dude.'

I swallow the huge lump in my throat, not caused by mud by the way and grab his hand. 'Thanks. I'm sorry. I'm not good at - you know -'

'- At taking care of yourself, at accepting you are still human and you need wolves now and then to protect your skinny ass.'

'Hey, my ass is fine as it is,' I mutter, half out of it. 'You just leave it alone.'

Scott grins wryly. We both start giggling like idiots when Derek, both eyebrows raised, stands in the doorway and listens to every word of our conversation. I'm definitely high on drugs. Isaac just looks as if he's just to this kind of crap from me, turns and leaves us alone.

I lift the oxygen mask off my face and and grab Scott's wrist before I'm being taken away. 'Scott.'

'Yeah?'

'Are you sorry I'm still human?'

The nurse stares at me and then checks my IV to see how much medication I've been getting.

Scott grins, ignoring her. 'No, I'm not,' he says. 'You are the glue of the operation.'

I sigh happily and lean back when they take me away. I see Lydia, Allison, Isaac, Derek, my dad, Melissa and Scott waiting down the hall, all going with me when they move me to the ICU. I fight off sleep until my eyes shut themselves and I drift away on a happy, delirious cloud, knowing my friends and dad will be there whenever I wake up.

Happy thoughts.

The End


End file.
